


I Just Want You (For My Own)

by BleedMeAMelody



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Copious Amounts of Fluff, Knitting, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining, Office Party, Pining, Secret Santa, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, brief mistaken identity, failed attempts at gift giving, i love that that's a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 13:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BleedMeAMelody/pseuds/BleedMeAMelody
Summary: “I made it so that you’re Harry Styles’ secret santa!” Niall practically shouted, clearly excited by his handiwork.Louis blinked once, twice, three times.“I’m sorry, I must be hearing things because it sounded like you just said that you made me Harry Styles’ secret santa, which I know can’t possibly be true,” Louis said evenly with a shake of his head.“Oh, but it is! I did!” Niall exclaimed happily.Or, Niall is tired of listening to Louis pine over the cute, curly-haired boy who works on the fourth floor, so he rigs the company’s secret santa. Holiday antics ensue.





	I Just Want You (For My Own)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [QuickedWeen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/gifts).



> Hiiii QuickedWeen! I was a little nervous when I got your prompts because I’m such a big fan of yours. I wrote this in like two days (yay college), so I’m sorry if it’s complete garbage. I hope you find it at least somewhat enjoyable!
> 
> Title is from the iconic “All I Want For Christmas Is You,” because I didn’t use it enough in this fic.

       “You’re welcome.”

       Louis glanced up briefly as a brunette man entered his office, halfheartedly assessing his confident demeanor before returning his attention to his lunch. Silence reigned over the pair, until the intruder coughed loudly.

       “I said, you’re welcome,” he repeated. 

       Louis sighed in resignation, rolled his eyes skyward for a moment in a prayer for sanity, and raised an unamused eyebrow at Niall as the other man grabbed an apple off the desk and began tossing it from hand to hand. Silence stretched between them once again until Niall began to pout.

       “Louis,” he whined, drawing out the name while stomping his foot petulantly, “you’re supposed to say thank you. Didn’t your mum ever teach you manners?”

       Heaving another sigh, Louis finally responded. “My mum taught me manners just fine, but I’m not sure yours ever did.” At Niall’s continued sullen look, Louis finally cracked a smirk. 

       “Fine. Thank you, O Wondrous Niall, for whatever gracious favor you have bestowed upon me on this marvelous day,” he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat so that he could give a low bow. Niall’s face immediately lit up, his pout melting away at his friend’s antics. 

       “O Wondrous Niall,” he mused, taking a bit of the apple, “I like the sound of that.” Louis sat back down in his chair with a small laugh. 

       “Now, why exactly am I thanking you on this marvelous day, Neil?” Louis asked with his eyebrows raised. 

       “Well, Lewis,” Niall began, pausing to chew his bite. After a moment of silence, Louis impatiently motioned for him to continue. “I,” Niall continued, drawing the vowel out dramatically, “made it so that you’re Harry Styles’ secret santa!” 

       Louis blinked once, twice, three times.

       “I’m sorry, I must be hearing things because it sounded like you just said that you made me Harry Styles’ secret santa, which I know can’t possibly be true,” Louis said evenly with a shake of his head. 

       “Oh, but it is! I did!” Niall exclaimed happily, beaming at the other man proudly. Louis calmly gathered a few folders off his desk, stacking them neatly in his hands before repeatedly hitting Niall with them.

       “Why on earth would you do that?!” Louis yelled, punctuating each word with a whack. Startled, Niall attempted to shield himself from the sudden torment.

       “Why are you attacking me? I thought you’d be happy! Besides, you already thanked me for it!” Niall cried, eventually wrestling the folders out of Louis’ hands. Louis huffed, fixing his fringe as he sat back down.

       “Well, I take it all back. You aren’t wonderful, you’re terrible, and I hate you,” Louis corrected as he rested his head on his desk. “Damn you Niall Horan.” 

“I thought you’d be happy. I don’t get what the big deal is,” Niall repeated in a huff. “You’ve been mooning over this guy for ages now, but you’ve never gotten up the courage to actually talk to him. I figured this would be the perfect opportunity for you to be introduced. You know what they say, first comes secret santa, then comes marriage, then comes all that other happy crap,” he finished with a shrug. Louis lifted his head off the desk to glare at Niall.

       "The big deal, Niall,” Louis seethed, “is that now I have to find gifts for the most perfect man on the planet that say ‘I think you’re an amazing person and I want to go on a date with you because I think we’d get on really well together’ without saying ‘I wanna lick whipped cream out of your dimple and have your children because I’ve been in love with you for the past year but I’m pretty sure you don’t even know I exist.’” Niall frowned thoughtfully.

       “That’s a lot for a gift to say, Lou. I’m not sure such a thing exists,” he finally said.

       “Exactly, Niall. Exactly,” Louis groaned, placing his head back on the desk once more. “I am so fucking screwed. Thanks a lot.” 

 

*****

 

       The pub was crowded when Louis finally arrived. Using Niall’s booming laugh and brief glimpses of Liam’s buzzed head for guidance, he pushed through the gathering crowd to find his friends and coworkers. Upon reaching the table, he gave a quick round of greetings before heading to the bar and getting himself a drink. He returned to the table as the group engaged in conversation.

       “‘Ello lads, ladies,” he said, sending a wink to Perrie and Jade as he stole a few chips out of Niall’s basket. “What’re we chatting about, now?”

       “Niall here was just telling us about your secret santa,” Perrie smirked before taking a sip of her drink. Louis buried his head in his hands and groaned. Niall had taken the liberty of telling just about everyone they met about how he rigged the secret santa for Louis’ sake. It made Louis want to scream. And strangle Niall, while screaming, of course. 

       “Oh no,” Louis grumbled without looking up, “not you lot, too.”

       “C’mon, Lou, isn’t this a good thing?” Jade questioned lightly, causing Louis to groan once more. 

       “No,” Louis denied vehemently. “This is definitely not a good thing. In fact this is the opposite of a good thing. It’s a horrible, terrible, awful, very bad, not good thing.”

       “Oi! I will not have you talking any more shit about this wonderful thing I’ve done for you. Quit being ungrateful, I risked life and limb to do this for you,” Niall practically yelled, bits of partially chewed food flying haphazardly across the table. Rolling his eyes so hard he was a little worried they might get stuck, Louis threw a chip at Niall, who attempted to catch it in his mouth. 

       “Shut up, you did not,” Louis sighed exasperatedly.

       “How did you do it, Niall? I though Sarah was in charge of setting up the secret santa?” asked Liam. 

       “She is, but I called in a favor. Last month I caught her and her boyfriend shagging in the copy room after hours, so she owes me,” Niall answered with a shrug and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Everyone stared at him for a minute, mouths agape as the clamor of the bar overtook the sudden silence between them. Liam whistled lowly before taking a sip of his beer. “And I was sick and tired of hearing Louis go on and on and on about the ‘fit, curly-haired boy with the dimples who works on the fourth floor,’ so I figured that this would be the perfect opportunity for Louis to make a move, since he’s too much of a chicken shit to do it on his own,” Niall finished, his poor imitation of Louis accent causing Louis to scowl at him. 

       “Aren’t we all?” muttered Liam. “But still, I don’t understand why this is such a big deal, Lou,” he said inquisitively. 

       “It’s a big deal because now I have to find the perfect gifts for him, and we all know that I’m absolute shit at that,” Louis replied with an irritated huff. 

       “Aren’t all the secret santa assignments supposed to come with a little list of what the recipient wants, though? Why don’t you just go based off of that?” Perrie asked.

       “Well, my dear Pezza, I got that list for one Harry Styles. Do you wanna know what it said?” Louis questioned, not bothering to wait for a response. “Harry Styles likes cats, puns, and chocolate,” He ticked each item off on his fingers, having already memorized the list after reading the email nearly a dozen times. Leveling each of his friends with an exasperated look, he continued on. “How the fuck am I supposed to find a gift that says ‘I love you, please marry me’ in a non-creepy way using cats, puns, and chocolate? Actually, how am I supposed to find a gift that says that at all?”

       “I don’t think they make gifts like that, love” Jade said frankly. “You’re right fucked.”

       “Well, I mean-” Liam began, before getting cut off.

       “Wait a minute, that’s it!” Louis exclaimed, eyes shining with his epiphany. “Of course, I won’t be able to find the perfect gifts in any old shop because Harry isn’t just any old person. He’s loveliness personified. No, I have to make them, it’s the only way.”

       “You? Make something?” Niall questioned incredulously. “That’s a riot. The only thing you’re good at making is a complete arse of yourself.” The table erupted into raucous laughter, feet stomping and hands clutching at stomachs. Louis immediately felt his excitement turn sour, as his urge to strangle Niall returned tenfold. 

       “Thinks he’s so funny, does he?” he muttered darkly while taking a swig from his beer. Perrie snorted as Liam wiped tears from his eyes. “Just wait until he wakes up with bleached hair, we’ll see who’s laughing then.” Regardless, Louis had a plan now, and fuck what Niall thought, he could totally make presents that accurately captured the essence of Harry Styles and Louis’ feeling for him without being overbearing. 

       Totally.

       Maybe. 

       Hopefully.

 

*****

 

       Louis’ boss really needed the reports by Friday, meaning Louis was stuck working late on Thursday night in an effort to finish them all in time. Oddly enough, he seemed to be the only one doing so so close to the holidays, a fact that Louis took full advantage of. He was currently in the break room making hot chocolate while singing “All I Want for Christmas Is You” very loudly and very off key. At least no one was there to judge him. 

       “ _ I just want you for my own _ .” The microwave dinged, and Louis reached to pull his mug out. 

       “ _ More than you could ever know _ .” He slowly stirred in the hot chocolate mix, stirring to the tempo of the song. 

       “ _ Make my wish come true _ .” He shimmied over to drop his spoon in the sink before shimmying back over to pick up his mug. 

       “ _ Baby all I want for Christmas is _ -” Ready to head back to work, Louis twirled around, careful not to spill, while mentally preparing to hit the high note. Except, someone was standing behind him, leading to a head on collision that sent hot chocolate everywhere. Completely taken aback, Louis looked up to apologize to person he had likely just severely burned with his hot beverage, only to be shocked into silence once more. 

       “You,” he finished lamely, for standing directly in front of him, shirt dripping with hot chocolate, was none other than Harry Styles. Harry chuckled, although it was edged with the tiniest hint of pain.

       “Me,” Harry repeated with a grin, his cheeks dimpling and eyes alight with delight. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought I was the only one here, but then I heard singing, so I came to check it out.” In the span of ten seconds, Louis got lost in the sound of Harry’s voice. It was so deep that he wanted to drown himself in it. His eyes wandered from Harry’s face back down to his chest, where he could now see one of Harry’s nipples through the damp shirt. Louis almost passed out right then and there, when it dawned on him what exactly had just happened, and he jumped into action.

       “Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” he exclaimed, placing his now empty mug on the nearby table before grabbing some napkins to dab at the large wet spot on Harry’s shirt. “I was so focused on trying to hit my high note that I didn’t hear you come in,” he babbled senselessly, barely even registering what he was saying as he furiously wiped at Harry’s chest. 

       “It’s okay, it’s not a big deal. I thought it was cute,” remarked Harry with a grin. Louis’ brain short circuited, causing him to rub even more vigorously at Harry’s shirt while spewing more word vomit. 

       “Your shirt was so nice, and now it’s probably ruined. I’m so sorry. I’ll-I’ll pay for a new one, I promise. As a matter of fact, I’ll buy you two new ones, one to replace this one, and one to say sorry for ruining this one. Shit, I’ll buy you how ever many new shirts you’d like-” 

       “Louis,” Harry cut him off, gently grabbing Louis hands to cease their fruitless efforts of rescuing his shirt. “Really, it’s okay. It was just an accident.” Louis just stood there, his hands held between Harry’s own, as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

       “You know my name,” is what came out of Louis’ mouth the next time he opened it, much to his horror.

       “Of course I know your name,” Harry laughed softly, and he might of said something else, but Louis was too busy whiting out over the fact that within the span of ten minutes, Harry Styles admitted to both knowing his name and somehow thinking he was cute. If it wasn’t for their embarrassing meeting, Louis might’ve thought he was dreaming. Actually, that could still be a possibility. 

       Not wanting to ruin the moment, and still a little in shock, Louis couldn’t even begin to formulate a response. And so the pair stood there, Harry’s hands wrapped around Louis’ smaller ones, the silence wrapping around them like a protective bubble. Louis stared up at Harry in a mixture of awe and wonder, hoping idly that his blatant adoration of the other boy wasn’t too blinding. If it was, Harry didn’t comment, instead gazing back at Louis with amusement and happiness so intensely that he looked kind of like a constipated frog. Not that Louis minded, of course. Harry could look like a warthog and Louis would still think that he was the most beautiful human on the planet. 

       The sound of a vacuum being turned on somewhere nearby startled both men out of their reveries, making Louis jump back and pull his hands free of Harry’s. 

       “Um, I really am sorry about your shirt,” began Louis as he stared forlornly at the large stain on Harry’s chest. 

       “Seriously, don’t worry about it,” was Harry’s calm reply, partnered with a shrug of his shoulders and a hand run through his hair. Resisting the urge to run his hands over Harry’s face, Louis snatched his mug off the table and nervously moved it between his hands. The silence stretched between them once more until Harry opened his mouth, presumably to make an excuse and leave. Desperate to keep Harry with him, Louis quickly cut him off.

       “Do you have any plans for the holidays?” he blurted out impulsively. Blinking in surprise, Harry took a moment to answer.

       “Well,” he started slowly, “I was planning on going home, but I guess that won’t be happening now.” Louis cocked his head to the side, brows furrowed.

       “Oh, and why’s that?” he asked.

       “My family decided to spend the holidays in the Alps at the last minute, and I can’t afford the plane ticket,” responded Harry, shrugging his shoulders in an obvious effort to downplay how upset he really felt. Louis felt his heart break. Being as close to his family as he was, there had been a few occasions where he hadn’t been able to spend the holidays with them, which had been absolutely devastating. He knew all too well how Harry must feel.

       “Are you close with your family?” Louis questioned softly, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s arm. Harry nodded, a small smile taking over his face, going on to describe his family and growing up in Holmes Chapel. The pair ended up engrossed in conversation, eventually moving to sit at the break room table where they stayed hours later than either of them had initially intended. Louis never got around to finishing his reports that night, a fact his boss was quite angry about the next day, but nothing could destroy the hope and happiness blooming in his chest. Perhaps there was hope for this secret santa thing yet. 

       (And Harry. There was always hope and happiness for Harry.)

 

*****

 

       Louis first idea was to bake Christmas cookies, which he assumed would be a fairly safe and simple bet. Everyone loved the holidays, and Harry had said he liked chocolate. Maybe he could work some puns in there, do some creative decorating. So, Louis found a recipe online (thank god for Pinterest) that didn’t look too complicated. The website had pictures of children baking and frosting cookies, and if children could do it, then for fuck’s sake, so could Louis. 

       Except for the small fact that he really,  _ really _ couldn’t. 

       Liam was stood underneath the smoke detector, desperately waving a towel around in an attempt to silence its deafening screeching, while Louis yanked the oven door open, pulling out the tray of burning cookies and dropping them into the sink. He surveyed the damage with a look of dismay as Liam finally managed to make the smoke detector shut up. His tiny kitchen looked like a war zone, that is, if wars were fought with baking supplies. Egg yolks dripped off the counters while their shells littered the floor. Bits of butter clung to the walls while a dusting of flour coated every surface. 

       Turns out, baking was a little harder than Louis’d anticipated.

       Initially, he’d tried to make the recipe he’d found online, but when he combined the dry and wet ingredients, the mixture turned from cookie dough to concrete. Luckily, he’d had enough ingredients to try a second time, except that batch had come out lumpy and tasting overwhelmingly of salt, nearly making Liam sick when Louis had forced him to taste it. It was then Liam suggested buying some premade dough, because surely that would be easier, which led to Louis’ current situation.

       “Wow, Lou. I mean, I knew you were a terrible cook, but I didn’t know it was possible for someone to make food  _ this _ badly,” Liam said in amazement, setting the towel back down on the counter. He had a bit of flour in his hair and a smudge of brown sugar on his cheek, but Louis was sure that he looked equally as terrible. 

       “How was I supposed to know making cookies was this hard? The people on the website made it look so easy,” Louis whined, eyeing the burnt rubble of his numerous baking attempts. “They lied to me!”

       “We burned every single cookie. All of them. Every single one, burnt to a crisp,” remarked Liam, a note of awe coloring his voice. 

       “I mean,” Louis started hopefully, “it’s not that bad, is it? He might still enjoy them, right?” Liam barked out a laugh. He picked up a cookie, holding it out in front of them like Louis needed more evidence of what had happened.  

       “Look at it, it’s all black!” Liam exclaimed. “You can’t give these to him now, he’ll think you hate him.” That was a fair point. The hockey puck Liam was currently holding didn’t really say ‘you’re amazing and I love you’ in the subtle way Louis was hoping it would. It was more screaming about pain, suffering, and other general unpleasantness. Louis tried to picture Harry’s face if he were to receive these failures as a gift, his green eyes filled with sadness and his lips turned down in a pout, looking very much like a kicked puppy. It shook Louis to his core.  Harry Styles should never be sad, should always be happy and smiling and laughing. In that moment, Louis swore that for as long as he should live, he would always make sure that Harry was as happy as he could be, because that was what he deserved. He deserved the entire universe, actually, but Louis couldn’t even bake him a simple cookie. 

 

*****

 

       It was time to move on to Plan B.

       Except Louis didn’t really have a Plan B. 

       He scrolled frantically through Pinterest, trying desperately to find a new gift idea. There was a lot of crayon art, but Louis couldn’t picture that going over too well, given his previous track record. Besides, he didn’t own a hair dryer, and he wasn’t about to ask his sisters if he could borrow theirs. There were plenty of disney related projects, and while Harry certainly looked like a Disney princess, Louis was hesitant to do anything without knowing what his favorite movie was. Facebook stalking could only reveal so much, and Harry was more of an Instagram man, anyways. 

       Sighing dejectedly, Louis was about to give up, when something caught his eye. It was a pattern for a snowflake jumper, and immediately the cogs in his brain were turning. While it had definitely been quite a while, he used to be an avid knitter back in Uni when he’d rely on knitting as a method of stress relief. His skills were probably a bit rusty by now, but a jumper would be the perfect secret santa present. Louis could already imagine Harry in a beautiful ocean blue jumper, lovingly stitched together by Louis himself. It was absolutely perfect. 

       And so, after a quick trip to the shops, Louis got started right away. He stayed up late every night, knitting and purling line after line, and calling his mum in tears when he dropped a stitch or messed up a stupid snowflake. He counted stitches until the numbers sounded like an alien language and cursed the high heavens when his yarn got tangled. It was a labor of love, and boy, Harry sure was lucky that Louis loved him. 

 

*****

 

       Louis received his first secret santa present a few days later on a dreary Tuesday morning. It sat on his desk, small and unassuming, with a bright red bow taped to the front. 

       “To Louis, from your secret santa,” Louis read from the tag while carefully examining the CD case. While a little old fashioned, Louis quite liked the idea that someone had made a mixtape for him. It was a very thoughtful gift, and Louis couldn’t wait for the end of the day so he could listen on his way home. 

       Time, however, seemed to have it out for Louis, as the day dragged on indefinitely. Whenever Louis was sure that hours had passed, he’d look at the clock only to find out that it had been a few minutes. Finally, finally, lunch time rolled around. No longer willing to wait for the drive home, Louis took his lunch out to his car. He debated driving around at least, but decided that that took too much effort, so he stayed in the parking lot. 

       Shivering against the cold, he waited a few minutes for his car to warm up before sliding the CD into the disk player. After a few beats of silence, the familiar opening notes of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” began to play. Bopping his head along to the beat, Louis enthusiastically sang along while eating his sandwich, putting on a mini-show right there in his car. 

       When the song finally ended, he waited excitedly to see what would play next, only to furrow his brow when the same opening notes repeated a second time. Slightly confused, Louis shrugged his shoulders. Honestly, the song was a jam, so he couldn’t really blame his secret santa for wanting to put it on there twice. He sang along a little more subduedly as the song played out a second time, more eager to find out what else was on the CD. 

       Except, the same opening notes played for a third time once the second song finished. Looking at his CD player in bewilderment, Louis skipped to the next song only to have Mariah Carey greet him once again. 

       And again.

       And again.

       And again.

       Every song on the CD, it seemed, was Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You.” Sitting back in utter bafflement, Louis tried to make sense of the situation as the song played out again in the background. Had his secret santa really gifted him a mix tape of 18 copies of the exact same song? On purpose? Perhaps it was an accident, he reasoned, although how someone accidentally did that was beyond him. Louis spent the rest of his lunch break trying to come up with a viable explanation for the situation, only to come to one conclusion. 

       Either this was a joke, or his secret santa, whoever they may be, was trying to hit on him. 

 

*****

 

       The company Christmas party was already in full swing when Louis and Niall arrived. Quickly making a beeline for the refreshments table, the pair spotted Liam and Jade nearby laughing with some other coworkers. After getting a glass of eggnog, Louis whistled appreciatively as he approached, grabbing Jade’s hand and twirling her around. 

       “Damn Thirlwall, you sure do clean up nice. Who’re you trying to impress?” he teased, causing Jade to giggle as she spun. She was wearing a tree skirt that had been fashioned into an actual skirt, the tinsel rustling softly whenever she moved. 

       “You’re one to talk. That’s a lovely jumper you’ve got on there,” she countered, eyes bright and words slightly slurred. Louis laughed. His jumper was a garrish red monstrosity, with a felt christmas tree on the front decorated with large glittery pom poms and gold sequins. He was actually quite proud of it, having found it years ago at a second hand shop and only bringing it out for special occasions like this one. 

       The party grew a little more rowdy as the night wore on and the alcohol set in. There was a makeshift dance floor, loud and raucous karaoke renditions, and, of course, kisses under the mistletoe. On his way to refill his drink for a third (fourth?) time, someone grabbed onto Louis’ arm and dragged him off course and underneath said mistletoe. He caught a flash of green eyes and white teeth before a pair of lips was pressed to his in a gentle kiss. It only lasted a moment before the stranger pulled away, allowing Louis to fully take in the appearance of his mystery kisser.

       “Harry,” he said breathlessly, feeling suddenly as if he had just run a marathon. Harry’s eyes widened comically in surprise.

       “Louis,” Harry startled, “I-I thought you were David! You-your jumpers are the same colors. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-I hope you don’t-” And he looked so distraught about potentially kissing Louis against his will that Louis’ melted from the inside out. 

       “Harry,” Louis cut off his ramblings gently, waiting for Harry to look at him before continuing. “Don’t be sorry,” he said with a fond smile, “just please do it again.” Harry’s eyebrows shot up in a silent question, one Louis answered with a nod and a beaming smile. Harry tentatively reached out and brushed his hands across Louis’ cheek, as if in awe that he was allowed to touch Louis at all. Louis, in turn, placed a steadying hand on Harry’s shoulder, before leaning in and brushing their lips together once more. It was a sweet and tender kiss, with Harry stooping down a bit and Louis stretching up onto his tiptoes. Louis only pulled away once the tightness in his chest became unbearable, whether it was from the overwhelming need to breathe or Harry’s general presence was unimportant.

       They stood there for a moment, breathing heavily while staring into one another’s eyes without saying a word. Eventually tearing his eyes away from Harry’s so he wouldn’t kiss him again, Louis shifted his focus to Harry’s chest. It didn’t seem like much of an improvement at first because, let’s be real, every inch of Harry was beautiful and wonderful and Louis wanted to press his lips everywhere, but then the color of Harry’s jumper registered in in Louis’ mind. A deep blue with tiny white snowflakes, just like the jumper Louis had knitted him. Louis vividly remembered spending many long nights cursing yarn of that exact color, which either meant that Harry had a different jumper in exactly the same color, or that Harry was actually wearing the jumper Louis knitted for him.

       “Hey, nice jumper,” he managed to say, breaking their silence as a small, knowing smile danced across his lips. Harry took a half step backwards so he could pull at the bottom hem of the jumper a bit, obviously pleased with Louis’ compliment if his returning smile is anything to go by. 

       “Thanks! My secret santa got it for me, and I thought it was just perfect for the occasion,” he replied enthusiastically. Louis fought to not smile too dopily, pleased that Harry seemed to like his present enough to wear it to the company Christmas party. Except-

       “Wait a minute,” Louis said slowly, his smile morphing into a frown. “Isn’t this supposed to be an ugly Christmas jumper party?” Harry’s smile grew impossibly wider as he nodded his head excitedly. 

       “Yeah, exactly!” And he just looked so damn proud of himself that it rendered Louis speechless for a moment. He stood there with his mouth half open in shock, feeling the anger build inside of him until it was all too much. 

       “Now, you listen here Harry Styles,” Louis fumed, jabbing his index finger into Harry’s chest roughly. “I did not work my arse off knitting that godforsaken jumper only for you to call it ugly. That is incredibly rude, and ungrateful, and-and-and just plain rude!” Louis stood there, chest heaving slightly after his small outburst, waiting for a response from Harry. When Harry only stood there, mouth moving uselessly and eyes wide in surprise, Louis raised his eyebrows impatiently. He would go to the grave defending this jumper, even from the one person it had specifically been made for. Eventually, Harry started back into action.

       “Wait a minute,  _ you  _ made this jumper?” he asked incredulously. “You  _ made  _ this jumper?” Louis’ rage deflated somewhat, his countenance beginning to falter slightly. “Louis are you my secret santa?” And Harry’s eyes were so wide, so concerned, and so so green that Louis felt the rest of the fight leave his body, replaced instead with mild trepidation. This is not how this was supposed to happen, not at all. God dammit Harry Styles.

       And while he was on that train of thought, God dammit Niall, too. Just, god dammit everyone, really.

       “Um,” Louis responded eloquently, the silence stretching between them for an almost uncomfortably long amount of time despite the clamor of the party surrounding them. “Yes,” he answered eventually, drawing the word out slowly as if that alone would be enough to buy him some time to think of an explanation. “Surprise,” is what he weakly came up with, making the word sound more like a question than an exclamation. Louis had thought that Harry couldn’t possibly look any more shocked, but boy, he was wrong. Flustered, Louis waited for Harry to say something, anything, shifting his weight from foot to foot and messing with his fringe nervously.

       Harry, however, seemed incapable of responding, standing there still as a statue. Sighing resignedly, Louis began to step away.

       “Fine,” he said dejectedly, and he turned around and began making his way to the exit, ready to leave the party now that his night had been effectively ruined. He heard Harry calling his name, but he didn’t have it in him to look back, his heart growing heavier with every step he took. 

 

*****

 

       For the last few days of work before the holidays officially began, Louis avoided Harry like the plague. Previously, he had never really run into the other man regularly, but now, he kept needing to spontaneously duck into offices or around corners in order to avoid being seen. He realized he was probably overreacting a bit, but it stung to know that he worked so hard on something only for it to be considered ugly.

       He sighed as he wearily trudged back to his office after a long and pointless meeting. It was the last day before time off for the holidays was set to begin, and he was ready to go home. When he approached his desk, though, he noticed a small box sitting on the surface, a shiny red bow stuck to the top. Curious, Louis slowly opened the box, gasping lightly when he saw what was inside. There, on a bed of white tissue paper, lay a beautiful deep green scarf. Louis reverently lifted it out of the box, running the yarn between his fingers delicately. By the number of holes and loose threads, it was easy to tell that it was homemade. It was then that Louis noticed the card laying amongst the tissue paper.

       “Knit happens,” he read with a chuckle, “and I’m sorry I made you blue. The jumper is really lovely, but all I want for Christmas is you. Signed, your secret santa.” 

       Louis stood there for a moment, reading and rereading those words until they finally settled in his brain. Then, in a flurry of motion, he was practically running outside to his car, pulling up Niall’s number on his phone while simultaneously attempting to wrap the scarf around his neck. He was in desperate need of a favor, and hopefully Niall would be willing to help. Afterall, he still had one more gift to deliver. 

 

*****

 

       Louis stood nervously outside the door, shifting his weight from foot to foot and adjusting his new scarf nervously. He was debating between knocking again and just leaving all together when the door finally swung open. Louis breath caught as he took Harry in, hair soft and a bit messy and lips so very pink. He smiled when he realized that Harry was wearing the jumper Louis had made for him, his stomach doing backflips. 

       “Louis, what are you doing here?” Harry asked with furrowed brows, clearly surprised to see Louis standing on his doorstep. 

       “Well,” Louis began, doing his best to fake nonchalance, “you see, I got this scarf as a gift from my secret santa, and it was just so wonderful that I just had to thank him in person.” He couldn’t help the grin that overtook his face when Harry’s eyebrows skyrocketed. 

       “Took you long enough. How’d you get my address, anyways” Harry mumbled, running a flustered hand through his hair as a light blush dusted his cheeks.

       “Niall,” Louis admitted with a shrug, causing Harry to laugh. Louis grin grew impossibly wider, for that was easily one of his favorite sounds. “Oh, I have something for you, too,” he exclaimed, fumbling in his pockets and pulling out an envelope. Harry took it with a puzzled expression. 

       “You really didn’t have to, Louis,” insisted Harry as he opened the envelope.

       “No, I really did,” Louis responded softly, watching as Harry’s mouth dropped open in complete shock and his eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he finally realized what the present was. He stood there, unable to form coherent sentences for a few minutes.

       “Louis,” uttered Harry finally, “you got me a plane ticket to see my family for Christmas? This must’ve cost a fortune! How? Why?” 

       “You deserve to be with your family during the holidays, and you mean a lot to me, so I wanted to make that happen,” came Louis’ sincere reply. Harry stood there speechless for another moment, trying to comprehend the significance of Louis’ gift. 

       “I-I can’t accept this,” he insisted resolutely, shoving the ticket back towards Louis. 

       “Nuh-uh,” Louis admonished teasingly, an amused glint in his eyes, “the gift is final. No returns or exchanges. Although, I do have one condition.” Harry quirked an eyebrow at that.

       “What is it?” he asked warily. Louis reached out and grabbed Harry’s free hand, pulling him closer until their feet were nearly touching. 

       “Go on a date with me once you get back,” Louis demanded, his voice leaving no room for argument. Harry was only able to nod enthusiastically, his answering smile bright enough to outshine the sun, melting Louis into a puddle of pure happiness and adoration. 

       “I’m going to kiss you now,” murmured Louis after a moment of comfortable silence, lifting a hand to cradle Harry’s jaw. Harry didn’t reply, only wrapped his arms around Louis waste to pull their bodies even closer before leaning down and pressing their lips together. It wasn’t long before the kiss deepened. Forgetting about the envelope still clutched in his hand, Harry went to dig his fingers into the small of Louis’ back. The sound of the the ticket crumpling forced them apart, chests heaving and wide smiles on their faces. 

       “Oops,” Harry whispered, eyes shining with absolute joy. 

       “Hi,” Louis sighed, not caring that he probably looked like an infatuated fool. He began to hum softly, swaying the pair lightly in tune to the music.

       “ _ Make my wish come true. Baby, all I want for Christmas is you. _ ”


End file.
